07-19-2015, 01:45 PM
It seems that Yael is always smiling around Natilyn. While she is usually a happy individual, something about her firstborn’s choice of mate and his daughter always give her the good feelings. She loved Alysanne and like Nylee, so if there was ever a family she would be proud of link herself too, it would be the former Falls dynasty. They were good. She trusted that Natilyn had been raised right.
Perhaps that makes Yael the silently judging Jewish (grand)mother. But hasn’t she earned that right?
And as the Savta, it is her prerogative to lavish all sorts of affection on her one and only granddaughter.
She remembers that the last time they’d been together, Nairne had asked her what was faster - poofing or flying? Her kingdom granted wings were gone, but it was easy enough to conjure up the exact same pair and settle them into her shoulders; they were used to the weight, without them, she was naked. Maybe one day she would change her appearance. But today is not that day. She cannot remember if she’d had a silver mane and tail the last time she’d seen them - but it makes no matter, does it? Even if there were another golden horse around, she is the only one with the accent.
She is the only one. Again.
The thought is chased from her mind as Nairne darts forward, and she embraces the young (but fully grown! oh, what a lovely young lady she has become!) woman within her fluffy, metallic feathers. A warm, throaty laugh flows freely, and she is happy again. “I’ve meessed you too, dear vone! You must tell me everyt’ing you saw, yes? Leave not’ing out about your adventures.” She lifts her eyes up from her granddaughter and look to Natilyn, an almost sheepish grin on her face. They ask a silent question, but before Natilyn can (hopefully) think her impolite, Yael unwraps her wings from around Nairne and nudges her on the neck so that greet Nat too. And whether the color-changing mare wants it or not, Yael wraps her in her wings too - for when she embraces them, she can pretend she is embracing Mikhael too.
“Xow are you, my dear? Please tell me you’ll stay for awhile…”
Perhaps that makes Yael the silently judging Jewish (grand)mother. But hasn’t she earned that right?
And as the Savta, it is her prerogative to lavish all sorts of affection on her one and only granddaughter.
She remembers that the last time they’d been together, Nairne had asked her what was faster - poofing or flying? Her kingdom granted wings were gone, but it was easy enough to conjure up the exact same pair and settle them into her shoulders; they were used to the weight, without them, she was naked. Maybe one day she would change her appearance. But today is not that day. She cannot remember if she’d had a silver mane and tail the last time she’d seen them - but it makes no matter, does it? Even if there were another golden horse around, she is the only one with the accent.
She is the only one. Again.
The thought is chased from her mind as Nairne darts forward, and she embraces the young (but fully grown! oh, what a lovely young lady she has become!) woman within her fluffy, metallic feathers. A warm, throaty laugh flows freely, and she is happy again. “I’ve meessed you too, dear vone! You must tell me everyt’ing you saw, yes? Leave not’ing out about your adventures.” She lifts her eyes up from her granddaughter and look to Natilyn, an almost sheepish grin on her face. They ask a silent question, but before Natilyn can (hopefully) think her impolite, Yael unwraps her wings from around Nairne and nudges her on the neck so that greet Nat too. And whether the color-changing mare wants it or not, Yael wraps her in her wings too - for when she embraces them, she can pretend she is embracing Mikhael too.
“Xow are you, my dear? Please tell me you’ll stay for awhile…”
Yael, guardian of the desert